


The Right of Somber

by tisyGasmask



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 90's Music, Character Death, Dark, FACE Family, Minor Character Death, Multi, Night Terrors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-09-13 05:55:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16886895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisyGasmask/pseuds/tisyGasmask
Summary: The life of a man named Matthew and his family. It could be as simple as that, but truly nothing is simple. Nothing is as it seems. Soon night terrors strike him as a young teen and he can't stop him. His siblings can't. No doctor can. But many secrets lie with their mother Francine. Those secrets won't be uncovered until many nights in Matthew's future. But you must know his story before you will understand those secrets.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One  
“Hickory Dickory Dock  
The mouse ran up the clock.  
The clock struck one,  
The mouse ran down.  
Hickory Dickory Dock.”

Matthew chanted, skipping through the backyard of his new home. It wasn’t really his, his parents’ really. Matthew was young. Filled with innocence. The exact reason he was skipping in their thriving backyard. But he stopped at the exact place that term could not be used. A tall, old oak that was mighty, yet terrifyingly deprived of all life it ever had. The small child stood there, looking up the trees with wide eyes. Those piercing violet eyes couldn’t even scratch the surface of that old oak. He circled around it, keeping his eyes up. Eventually he reached his original spot. Another boy was there.

“Hi, Matthew.”

“Hi, Gilbert!”

The boys sat down on the ground. The boy named Gilbert pulled out a small leather bag and he opened it, dumping it out to pour out many stones and small, dirty trinkets. Matthew ran his hands through the pile, examining the it. Gilbert picked up a bent up bottle cap which was green underneath a light layer of dirt, and showed it to the other who examined it with a smile even though he could barely make out it’s features or colors. 

“I found this one by the lake,” Gilbert said, looking at it for himself.

“What lake? I don’t see any lake,” Matthew replied, giving a rubberneck look around.

“You know, the lake,” was all he said.

The boy did not question yet just looked down at the pile of trinkets. He was displeased by his lack of sight, only being able to make out slight colors, shapes, and some other obvious details. After many minutes he heard a loud bell chime from the distance of his house. So he got up silently, skipping back down his path to that house. From afar he could see his sister standing outside the house, waiting for him and his other two siblings. She was the only girl of the adopted kids, her name was Michelle. Matthew’s two other brothers were Christian and Alfred. Alfred seemed like the star child, being the biological child of their father. Their mom had no blood children. She liked it that way. No children.

As Matthew walked into the house, noting that Michelle must’ve gone inside, he walked through the first washroom and into the large foyer lined with boxes of all sorts. Most were of clothes and personal items. Other’s with dishes and utensils. Boxes that would’ve contained cleaning supplies were opened and of course those supplies were out and some being used by the father of the family, Arthur. And Arthur turned around to him, setting his cleaning solution and rag down on a clean area of the ground and he walked to him, sweeping him up into his arms. 

“Young Matthew, where were you today? Did I see you go down to the old farming area?” he asked.

He shook his head, “That was Alfred, I went to the backyard. I saw the big oak.”

“Ah, yes, the backyard,” Arthur nodded and set him down, “How about you go see what your brother is doing, I worry for him. He’s reckless,” he commented.

Matthew just nodded and head towards the opposite direction, to the Northwest side of the property that seemed it was thrown in the middle of nowhere. He walked through a walkway that was tracked with muddy footprints like a mirror to his own. He noted this, walking out and looking around quietly. There was a shadow in the bare corners of his eyes and he just turned to his left before-

“BAH!!”

He stumbled back, falling back and on to his hands, scuffing them up on the rough concrete. “Alfred! I told you to stop that!” 

The other brother smiled and laughed, taking off an old mache mask. “You know you get scared easily.”

“But that doesn’t give you the dispensation to just go ahead and- do that!”

“The...dispan- what?” Alfred paused and laughed, “Don’t use big ol’ words.”

Matthew frowned and pushed himself up, looking at Alfred and almost instantaneously knowing what his eyes were saying, so he held out his hands. Though not twins in the slightest, they were almost facsimile to each other. They looked, even sounded alike sometimes. 

Alfred leaned down and kissed his brother’s hands lightly. “See, all better!”

“Thanks,” Matthew looked down at his dirty, bleeding hands, “Gilbert says you can’t fix everything with kisses or apologies.”

“I want to meet Gilbert.”

“He says he doesn’t like you.”

“Arthur says that people should try to get along with each other.” 

“Arthur doesn’t know anything,” with silence Matthew began again, “He wants you to come inside. I think he made lunch or something.”

Alfred nodded and they both started inside, “Why doesn’t mom come out from the library lately?”

“You know she has to clean. She took on the room she wanted to, we did the same but with our bedroom,” he said, wiping off his shoes as he got inside, Alfred did not. 

“I know,” Alfred replied, the brothers walking to the dining room together.

Of course Arthur was there, setting up the table with small sandwich triangles and tea cups of fresh made fruit juice. Christian was already annoying Michelle and throwing crumbs in her curly, dark hair. Michelle, in turn, splashed some of her juice on to the other’s shirt.

“Kids! Stop that right now!” Arthur yelled, keeping a fatherly tone before turning to Matthew and Alfred, “Boys, boys, will one of you bring mommy a sandwich?”

The star child jumped at the opportunity and he grabbed a plate from his father, “Thank you dear,” he said to the child as he rushed it away.

As for Matthew’s part, he just sat across from his fighting siblings and ate politely, the way his mother taught him and tried to teach his siblings. The meal was the same as any other Sunday lunch, peanut butter and strawberry jam. He never really liked it all as much as Alfred did. Matthew was more of the pork and cheese type. But either way, Matthew ate the food, even if it was something actually cooked by his father which never turned out well for anybody. It left their old house smelling like smoke, but they got rid of it before they sold it, of course.

Soon enough, Alfred of course returned and he held something in his cupped hands as he sat down next to Matthew. 

“What do you have there?” he asked.

Alfred eventually opened his hands to reveal a small moth, “I found this on the way down, I named it Manny,” he answered. 

The other boy leaned in close and looked at the insect, studying it before whispering, “You should let it go, it’ll die.”

“Probably,” he just looked down at his hands raising them up, the moth flying away, “I bet that moth is happy is gone and free.” Matthew just leaned back and watched his brother as he began to eat his sandwich before he spoke with a mouth full, “But maybe it’s not, maybe it misses us.”

Matthew shrugged and finished the last few bites of his own food. “Did mom say anything?” he asked quietly.

Alfred swallowed some food, “Oh, guess not. Just a thank you and stuff,” he replied, again, continuing to eat quite quickly.

He just stared down at his empty plate and thought for a moment, about how his mom was so secluded, even from their father. Maybe in someday she’d be more open, but Matthew understood. How his mom liked the silence. The lack of chaos. There was no one around her often. Then his thoughts moved on to his father and mother’s relationship. And it came to him, love probably worked like that. The less contact the better the relationship. This thought made the boy sad. Maybe the lack of contact was for the better of the family. Their family.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two  
Some sort of old rock song played through the radio, drowned out by Alfred arguing with Arthur over a bad test grad. More like a bunch of bad test grades, Matthew thought to himself. Though he found their bickering and of course his brother’s loudness annoying, he still thought of it as something that reminded him of their family. They were driving the hour and twenty-two minute long ride to their middle school. They’ve been used to the journey for a few weeks now, the new environment was now anything but. Alfred made friends quicker than he could talk about them, so did Christian. Overall they ended up being in the more popular end of the food chain. Michelle hung out with some sweet girls, one was named Katyusha (everyone called her Kat), and Matthew and her clicked quite nicely. He had few other friends, like an 8th grader named Carlos. Carlos was probably his closest friend. They talked often and about everything. How they both had some pretty crazy families, but it always seemed Carlos won at that game. 

Matthew barely noticed when they stopped, not being by a window and quite clearly dozed off in his thoughts. But of course when his father gave him a pat on the shoulder and a quick goodbye, he got out with his carrying bag and he started down the sidewalk and into the building. 

Upon arriving his locker, he saw his brothers and their terrible friends. He groaned and opened his locker, grabbing his algebra supplies and slammed it shut, making a kid next to him flinch. His first stop every morning was always the library for one, technically two, specific reasons. That being that none of the popular clique kids drifted in often and the ones that did spilled some pretty hot gossip. Girls always did that, gossiped. Some of them at least.

He took a seat in a chair placed by a small round table. Just sitting there and thinking, he barely even noticed he was staring at some tall kids across the way. Observing him, Matthew could see he was dressed in a baggy yet classy cardigan with a shirt under it and straight cut jeans and some fresh shoes. This made him come to the conclusion that the other male probably had a good amount of money. As he turned to his side he first noticed a front tuft of his hair was spiked up, but as he looked him down, he noticed something he did not ask nor wanted to see. That dude he was so awkwardly staring at must’ve had probably the most obvious erections he had ever seen. They made eye contact for a moment and Matthew flushed, feeling the tips of his ears burn like matches. Oh God did that feeling intensify as the other walked towards him.

“Hey, you,” the person said, leaning over uncomfortably.

“I- yeah?” Matthew asked quietly. 

“Man to man here, do you know where the nearest bathrooms are?” he asked with shifty eyes. “The names Abel by the way.”

“I um…” he thought for a moment, “I think if you be careful you can use the staff restroom down that hall thing,” he gestured to a small hall to their left with his head.

The man named Abel smiled and nodded, looking around quickly and walking off quickly. Matthew watched as he left. He hated how he couldn’t get his flush down. Suddenly, he heard some laughing from behind him and he saw Christian and a friend or two drift in, and getting closer to him. He rubbed his face and turned to him as their paths met.

“What do you want now, Chris?” he asked.

“Did you see that kid?” he asked pointing to where Abel was. 

“Yeah? Why?” Matthew asked curiously.

Christian scoffed and put a hand of the table, “That rich fucking kid is selling weed around here. And good stuff too.”

Matthew rolled his eyes, “Why do I need to know this?”

“Why would some rich kid be selling weed? He already probably has enough money.”

“I mean, I guess so,” Matthew shrugged, “but he needs to maintain that money.”

Again, Christian scoffed and he threw a twenty at Matthew, “Whatever, just go get some stuff from him, have fun for once, nerd.”

With that, the group was off, and of course a minute later so was Matthew to his first class. Why would he want to buy any drugs? But at the same time he felt curious, like usual. So, he came down to his final decision, he would by some weed from the man named Abel.

The next few periods he had were as boring as could be; algebra, life science, then probably the most anti-climatic days of Home EC yet. Finally fourth hour came around, study hall. Matthew knew this was basically the breeding ground for bad behaviour, but he thought he really needed it. For the second time in the day, he walked to the library, taking his place in the same seat as the morning. Filing through his papers in folders, he pulled out their algebra homework about the wonderful wonderful world of the most extreme fraction work possible. That was an over exaggeration, but it was how Matthew would describe it. Almost as soon as he started he swung into a repetitive state of reading problems and figuring them out. He felt a tap on his shoulder and he saw the man from earlier sit down, Abel.

“Hey, I hope you don’t mind me sitting with you,” Abel said, leaning on his elbow to face him.

“It’s fine, really,” he replied quietly, “Did you take care of yourself?”

“Yeah, ‘guess I did,” Abel replied with a shrug. “How’re you doing?”

Matthew looked up from his work and at him, “Fine, and you?”

“Fine enough.”

“Alright,” he paused, “Why are you sitting with me?”

Abel shrugged, “You seem like the only person here like me; alone, anti-social, wanting some weed.”

“I- I don’t want any weed,” he hissed at him in a whisper.

The other seemed like he was not caring about the whispering, “One of your annoying brothers said you did.

Matthew sulked and growled, “Well he’s- wait, how do you know I have other brothers?” he asked.

“Your family name is one of talk around here,” Abel commented.

“Oh.”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
The next thing Matthew knew, he was spinning around, higher that the gods, in some old dress in Abel’s closet from God knows where. Of course Abel watched as he took a drag of both of their joints and he laughed in a sort of giggly haze. He felt light, free, and senseless. As soon as Matthew stumbled, he fell back neck to his new friend and he laughed helplessly. They both laughed. Abel handed him back his joint and he took a drag, breathing out with a small smile.

“Hey, Mattie?” Abel slurred.

“Yeah, Abey?” 

“What if were...gay?” he asked slowly with a small chuckle.

Matthew laughed and tipped his head back, “Then I think I’d uhh be uh...I don’t know. Are we gay?”

“Mmm,” he turned his head and he nuzzled against the other’s neck, “I think we are.”

He chuckled and turned holding Abel as he took a short drag, putting his almost gone joint out on a nearby ashtray. Abel did the same and he kissed Matthew’s jawline gently and wrapped his arms around his waist. With some messy fumbling, they positioned themselves to Matthew was kneeling over Abel as they slowly connected a kiss. It was soon broken as Matthew pulled away.

“Wait, wait. You, uhm, don’t have AIDs right?” he asked cautiously.

“Nah, you?”

“No.” he purred as they both went in for another kiss, both slipping into each other's mouths. They stayed like that, messily making out, Abel groping Matthew’s ass, Matthew handling Abel’s dick through his pants. 

An eternity later with thrown off shirts and pants on the floor, Matthew jerked away quickly. “Dammit, Abel, you have a clock around here?”

“Yeah, yeah, a watch.” he sat up and checked his quite ornate watch with a squint. “Uhm...a quarter after six.”

“Oh my God, I need to get home or dad will have my skin for his latest suit.” Matthew said with a panic, jumping up and gathering his clothes, frantically slipping them on. 

“Well damn, and if you’re late I’m guessing that means no fun nights like these.” Abel commented, nonchalantly. “And that means nothing further.”

“Yes, exactly why you should get your clothes on.” Matthew said with a very serious tone as he tucked in his shirt and slipped on his glasses. Really it was a miracle that he even got his clothes on without those glasses, Matthew was about as blind as a mole, as he would like to say.

Abel just hummed and put on his clothes in a quick yet calm manner which seemed to kind of annoy Matthew. But of course once both were dressed, they quickly hustled out to Abel’s car, Abel sneaking little touches at Matthew here and there. And as soon as they knew it, they were out on the roads less traveled on on the way to Matthew’s house. Matthew found himself staring out the window and staring down at the racing road. He felt almost ashamed that he lived further away from many of the other kids in his school. More like all of them. That feeling was odd to the freshman, he didn’t sense it in his brothers or sister. Maybe they felt like they belonged. Like they were just in the right place they needed to be. That thought alone made Matthew shift in his seat, causing Abel to glance over at him. 

“Are you okay?” he asked cautiously.

“Yeah, just a headache I guess.” Matthew shrugged and looked over at him with a smile.

Abel chuckled. “The weed will do that to you sometimes, especially since it was your first time.” He said as he patted the other’s thigh.

Matthew smiled and leaned back before shortly arriving. So in farewells, he waved Abel off in a basket of goodbyes and he drove off. As for Matthew, he dashed inside, painting on a happy face. Michelle quickly grabbed him aside and into the kitchen.

“Hey sis, what’s up?” he asked quietly.

“Dad and Al kind of got into a fight again so I think we should just let them cool down and one of us others can make dinner.” she whispered back.

“Oh…” he thought for a moment. “I’ll make us something, you and Christian should tell mom.” 

Michelle nodded and smiled. “Thanks big brother, you’re the best.” she smiled and bounced off, probably to go find Christian.

He turned around and examined the kitchen. Of course his first instinct was pancakes, but maybe something fancier would cheer the family mood up for a change. Maybe even get mom to eat with them. So he began to make some steaks they had been planning to eat forever. Getting started he grabbed his pans, seasoning, oils, everything and more you’d expect to make a steak. Going over steps such as seasoning and tenderising the slab of meat, he found himself waiting over a pan full if searing meats. He leaned back on the countertop, staring down at the almost tantalizing flames fueled by the stove. In a trance, he could almost feel the flames tickle on his skin, dancing in a powerful waltz. The feeling was high, which he thought he still was. The flame called him, and he stepped forward slowly. His hand reached out and turned up the burner dial, those beaming flames growing ever more. The feeling of loss of mind coating him as he stuck his hand in the flame. He tilted his head in curiosity as the flames gathered around his skin, scorching and burning it. A sinisterly adoring smile crept across his face. 

“Mattie! What are you doing?!” 

A force suddenly pulled him away from the flames and threw him on the floor. It was Christine. He had broke his bond.

“We asked you to cook some damn food, not yourself!” He yelled at him, shutting off the flames. He opened the pan’s cover. “Gah, at least diner is ready. Thanks for that at least. I’m getting dad.”

Matthew sat there, looking at his burnt hand. It looked horrid, gross. And he started crying. His body in those moments felt like it was being taken over, like he wanted to hurt himself. He didn’t feel the pain, and he still didn’t. But he cried because he felt lost. Like he didn’t belong. Nothing was right.

Nothing ever will be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that took long enough to make. Sorry.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
The Kirkland family sat in the ER waiting room quite a long while before school started, and they were of course waiting for a doctor to look at Matthew’s hand. The boy himself was looking down, basically curled up in the beaming energy of anger coming from his father. He hated it so damn much. Alfred always tolerated it, he had thick skin. But Matthew was fragile in a sense, his strength came through his own anger which he did not show often. Christine and Michelle didn’t get that anger often, especially not Michelle. She always minded her own business. Matthew sighed and looked at his hand, his red, puss coated hand. The sight made him want to hurl.

“Matthew Kirkland?” A nurse called.

Arthur stood up first, glaring down at Matthew as he stood up. And together they walked and followed the nurse into a small room lined with posters of body systems and such. The boy was told to sit on the bed in which he obeyed and the nurse left.

“Dad, you know you can’t just glare at me in silence forever.” Matthew mumbled.

“Like hell I can’t. You’re doing all the talking, this will be a good real world example of the consequences of your actions.” Arthur replied sternly.

The other nodded and watched as a woman doctor walked in, sitting in a spinning stool in front of Matthew with a kind smile. He wondered how doctors and nurses maintained a smile, even through painful events. 

“Hi, Matthew is it? I’m Doctor Gleeson, I’ll be helping you with your burns.” she said, still with that smile.

“Thanks, ma’am. And yeah, it’s Matthew.” he reassured.

“Alright,” Dr.Gleeson pulled up her mask and pulled on some gloves. “I’ll take a look now. Just from sight I believe you had some severe second degree burns. Can you hold up your hand, sweetie?”

Matthew nodded and did as told, and the doctor tilted her head as she examined his burned skin. The process went on for less than a moment before she asked him to stretch out his arm just a little. 

“Now I’ll have to take a cotton swab with some gel on it to remove any dead skin that I can so that your skin can heal properly. This will be pretty uncomfortable so taking slow, long breathes may help.” she advised and she did as so.

After the whole appointment with the doctor lady, Matthew found himself walking out with a loose cloth cast, many rolls of bandage wrap, and burn cream. All the while everyone stayed silent, not wanting to disturb their father, even to everyone’s surprise Alfred was quiet. Thankfully they also arrived to school on time.

Matthew walked to his locker, quickly finding it difficult to put in his code because of his cast. Thankfully, his sweet, pot smoking angel showed up in time to save him. 

“What happened there, doll?” Abel asked, pointing to his hand.

“Burned. And don’t call me that, we aren’t dating.” he mumbled and he stepped back.

“Mhm, sure we aren’t dating.” he rolled his eyes jokingly. “Now tell me your combination and what happend.”

Matthew sighed. “Twenty-two, five, eleven. And can this story, and my combination, stay between us?”

“Sure, just tell me, you’re worrying me.” Abel said with concern as he fidgeted with the lock.

“Well, I was making dinner because dad and Alfie got in a fight-”

“Alfie?”

“It’s a nickname I have for Alfred. But anyways, I was looking at the flame and I just felt...compelled. So I moved the pan aside, turned up the heat and stuck my hand in. It didn’t hurt really, and I’m not sure why it didn’t. Christian barged in and pushed me away. That’s about it.” Matthew whispered, obviously not wanting anyone else to hear.

As Abel popped the locker open, he looked over at Matthew with crossed arms, “Don’t tell me you’re suicidal. Because if you are you’re coming home with me right now and we’re going to talk about why you are fucking amazing.”

“No! No...I’m not. To be honest there’s moments when I have those feelings, but this is the most violent incident.” he said, pulling some things out of his backpack, throwing them on the ground and tossing his backpack into his locker. 

Abel stared loosley at Matthew with a worried expression. “Was last night, you and me, was it...did I scare you? Hurt you?”

“I swear I have no idea where you get all this from, no. I loved last night. It was probably the best night I’ve had in my life.” he took a pause. “But, since we’re on the subject, do you think we can keep all this quiet? I have no idea how people would react to us being a thing.”

“I agree. Just let me know if I ever hurt you. I guess we should head off to our classes now.” he replied and he patted Matthew’s shoulder and he returned the gesture with a soft smile. 

Matthew grabbed his book from the ground with a small struggle caused by his hand, but of course he managed. He seemed he always did. This thought caught him a in daze as he walked to his first class. Whenever he got hurt in the past he was ignored, and it seemed like that in the doctor’s office. His father ignored him for the most part, his siblings too. At that moment he felt so guilty, for a lot. For causing a commotion, for ruining dinner, for making everyone wake up early. Walking into his class and sitting at his seat, he dipped his head down and rested his head on his forearms. His thoughts seemed to turn dark as he remembered so many time he got hurt and had an effect on his family. For a moment he could feel tears building at the walls of his eyes, but he held them back easily. He didn’t want to cry, he had no time for it. He furrowed his brows and sat up, pusing those bad thoughts back and jumping slightly as the bell rang and class started. Though the whole hour seemed to go on smoothly, it felt Matthew was isolated, silent, forgotten. Never had he felt so small, so alone. That feeling was a stranger, he didn’t know it. That made him so uncomfortable, and he just wanted to be in the comfort of Abel. That’s all he wanted and that was the one thing he couldn’t have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really tempted to make this one pretty dark, but I decided to wait for the next time around. SO if the end feels like rambling and page filling, then it is, sorry for that. Anyways, please let me know what you think! Feedback is awesome as always. Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five  
Mallards scraped across the sky, mates along with them. How the months went into a slightly colder state, warding off many other birds species beyond those ducks. Dropping his head, Matthew looked away from the sky and down at his cast. In a few minutes he’d have to go off with his dad for the doctor’s office, surgery to be exact. Some parts of his hand’s skin would have to be replaced with skin from somewhere else on his body. He didn’t like the idea of the procedure. And as soon as he knew it, his father was calling for him, so he he walked inside and off of the balcony his brother and him shared and he walked out of their room, giving a quick look out the window, at the mallards, before leaving. Out and down the stairs and to the entrance, walking out the door and to his dad’s car where he was waiting. The tension inside Matthew only grew, telling he was going to get the lecture or even silence if his lifetime. Hesitantly, he stepped into the car and sat down in the front seat, buckling up and sighing.

“So,” Arthur said as he took the car out of park and started off down the driveway, “What are you thinking about?”

Matthew knew he was trying to strike up a conversation, so he tried to play along. “Nothing much, I guess. School work if that counts as an answer.” he said with a shrug.

“What about school work? A test?” he asked.

“No, not really. An English thing we have to do, a research paper to be more specific. Even though we get to choose what our topic is and how we present it, the rules of MLA are jacked up.” Matthew said, adjusting himself so he was staring out the window.

Arthur scoffed. “Well if you keep up with avoiding eye contact you’ll fail when it comes to presenting the damned thing.”

He just rolled his eyes and gave a neutral hum and he wiped his nose. He lied about having his mind on the work, he had his mind on staying on his father’s good side, and his mind on someway he could visit with Abel.

 

You never came back to me  
You left me  
You didn’t even care for me  
You never looked for me

And then I saw them. Surrounding my body. I was a shame. I am a shame. Yet I looked clean. Not a shame. I wasn’t a shame. I’m not a shame.   
It then changed. Dad was sitting down. Reading. Usual. Ignorant to the world around himself.

It changed. The tree. A boy. Gilbert. Pale. Closed eyes. In the ground. Six feet under. Dead.

Then there was me. Ignorant to the world around me. Pale. Closed eyes. Equilibrium.

Eyes opening with a small shudder and that feeling of content loss of body remained only for a few moments, anesthetic slowly wearing off the the feeling running back to his finger tips to his toes. Well, to be exact, the feeling was running back to his right hand, his left in a light layer of bandages. The first thing his mind fully registered was that, not even his own father asking out his name. Like a limp and dying animal, he moved his head to his right side.

His dad sighed for a moment. “They must’ve loaded you with anesthetic.”

“Mm,” Matthew started, clearing his throat lightly. “I...yeah I guess so.”

“The nurse said once you get your head cleared up we can leave, but we’ll see how long until that happens. And I already ordered some food for your siblings just in case we aren’t here in the next twenty minutes or so.”

Matthew nodded and sat up a little, lifting his bandaged hand up and looking at it for a moment. “Where did they take the extra skin from?”

“Your right hip, they said it would be the best place. You might have a scar there and on your hand.” his father said, standing up and heading towards the door. “Call the nurse in when you feel better.”

Letting his hand drop down carefully, Matthew nodded and watched his father leave. He laid there and exhaled, trying his best to force his mind to clear up completely, but of course that did little to nothing. There was one thing he remembered though. Arguing, seeing himself during the surgery, his father too, but probably the one thing that got him was seeing his old childhood friend in the ground by the tree. Their tree. Matthew didn’t know how to interpret the vision. Maybe it was him burying his childhood. Maybe it was him just forgetting Gilbert. The feeling of something terrible couldn’t be shaken.

 

“Mattie! Mattie, bro! Are you okay?” 

Matthew found himself home now, not remembering the car ride there in an almost dream state of living. He also found himself being hugged by his stupidly annoying brother. “I’m...yeah. Just light headed, I guess.”

“Omigod, do you have cancer? Are you dying?” Alfred asked with wide eyes.

“He doesn’t, boy.” Arthur scolded the beach blonde hair boy. “Now get your brother up to his room and get him some pizza.”

“Uhm, dad, I’m not too hungry.” Matthew commented quietly.

“That’s fine, just eat tomorrow-”

Alfred suddenly interrupted. “Oh! Mom wants to see ya’, bro. Lucky for you, or, I mean unless if you’re in trouble.

Arthur rubbed his temples and furrowed his brows. “Boys, go do as told. Alfred, help your brother upstairs and get ready for bed, it’s late.”

“Yes, sir.” Alfred said with a small eye roll, sure to piss his father off and he took Matthew’s good hand, leading him up the large, split staircase of there front hall. Matthew followed obediently and silently like a dog.

“Alfred, do you have any idea why mom would want to see me?” he asked quietly.

“Not the slightest. But I know you’re worried, it’s our twin powers.” the brother replied with a small laugh.

“We’re not even related, and you know that.”

“Yeah, but we could be psychologically related.”

“You’re absolutely absurd.” Matthew mumbled as he stopped both of them by the library door. “Bye.” Was all he said before entering, letting go of his brother’s hand and shutting the door.

For a moment, he stared the wooden door as a sudden eerie feeling seeping upon him slowly like maple sap in autumn. Turning around slowly with a content sigh, he laid his eyes upon the largest room on the second floor, the library. Books were in piles on the ground, a satisfyingly neat sight. Absorbing the scene, he walked forward and soon came upon the cleared, glossy wooden desk with his mother sitting in it. She looked the same as she did in his own youth; light brown hair tied back in a loose and classy bun, light medium skin with one Marilyn Monroe mark, makeup natural all except her red painted lips. Francine was her name. 

She looked up from some papers she must have been signing. “Matthieu, mon cher, please come sit down.”

Matthew stared at her for a moment before walking around the desk into the familiar visiting seat across from his mother’s. This wasn’t the first time at all that he had visited her at all, they visited often, just not as often as Matthew would like. “Bonjour, mom.”

Francine smiled softly. “I see you’ve been through quite the ordeal, dear.” And she paused for a moment. “You felt it.” The boy stared at her blankly, taking a moment to take in her words as she continued. “I do too. I’ve always felt it. And you will too, Matthieu.” she said, sounding all too comforting.

“Mom, what...is this?” 

“Oh dear.” she chuckled. “Open your eyes, child. Look and see what you could be. See boy.”

His eyes shot open with an and ear bleeding scream, but he couldn’t move. By God, his mouth didn’t move. That scream was muffled but his mouth stuck shut, the feeling of his jaw popped closed made his anxiety go on high. That vision of his mother and the library faded away, now all he saw was a pale face above him. Melting in fear, Matthew recognized the face. Gilbert. He looked grown and possibly his own age, but his eyes were sunken in and glowing red of hell fire. The imaginary “friend” stared right back down at Matthew, and it was only then he realized that his his neck, those muted and lengthy fingers digging into him. Air was a forgotten memory as Matthew tried to scream more, not being able to breathe. And he felt new hands, shaking him and Gilbert away from him. 

“Mattie!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, sorry there's so much dialogue in this one. Mega RIP


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six  
Processing was hard when you’re crying as your brother keeps repeating that you weren’t breathing and making some “gnarly” choking noses. This was the situation Matthew Williams found himself in at the moment, and as for processing it was the dream he had just had. The extremely real dream. The surreal nightmare he had just had. God, the boy just wanted his brother to shut up and hug him or go back to sleep, something other than complain about his sleeping noises and actions, but of course he noted Alfred’s descriptions in his head. From what he managed to pick up through his rambling whisperings, his eyes were wide open and eerily bloodshot and tears were there too, he was wriggling around and he looked pale and red like he was trying to hold on to his final breath whilst drowning. He had only seen this after waking up to his brother’s muffled shriek. 

Soon the tears slowly trickled down to a drop or two every few seconds and the star-child went back to his bed yet left a lamp and nightlight left on for Matthew as he himself laid down. There was tragically a whole four hours of sleep ahead of him and he could swear it took one whole of those hours to get the courage to succumb to sleep and close his eyes, letting his muscles relax and his head drift past the worries of the nightmarish hell he just experienced. He could think about it in the morning, just anytime but now. Now was time to move past it for a moment. Matthew had managed to build walls in that sense, forcing himself to move past things and people and wants and even needs. Forcing all thoughts out of his mind, the boy slept with tears staining at his skin and dark circles bound to form throughout his slumber.

 

“Oh, Abel. Hey.” 

“What’s got your eyes looking like Niagara Falls, kleine tulp?” The Dutchman asked, strutting some of his first language in hopes of cheering his friend up.

“Just...another weird thing. A nightmare.” He said, not even bothering to ask whatever he said meant. “I told you about my imaginary friend Gilbert, right?”

“I think. Yeah, you did.” Abel gave a nod. “Tell me about this nightmare.”

“Well, it started when I was visiting with my mom and she said something really creepy and suddenly I was in my bed and Gilbert was on top of me, choking me. I tried to scream but I couldn’t even move. The strangest thing was that Gilbert was grown up, like adult grown up. He looked so pale and hellish, and his eyes were more red than usual. So red I could have sworn I saw blood in them.” Matthew said quietly, furrowing his brows.

“Shit, Mattie.” Abel began as the other looked up at him scared. “That’s sleep paralysis. That’s some bad shit. It’s tough and scary as hell.”

“I-what? How do you know about whatever this is?” He asked, a sharp tone arising from him. 

“Sleep paralysis, my sister had it for a bit when our dad first moved away. Mom always worried about the baby and that made Lauren worry and she got some terrible nightmares. When we took her to a psychologist they said we have to help her through it. And that’s all we could do.” Abel answered, patting his shoulder lightly. 

“So I can’t just fix this with some pill?”

“Maybe sleeping over and getting high could help, lift our spirits if you know what I mean.” The Dutchman whispered.

Matthew laughed a little and sighed. “I guess a sleepover couldn’t hurt too much, maybe continue our little game?”

“What a little cheetah.” Abel whispered with a smirk and he straightened out. “We better get to class before they catch us in the janitor’s closet.”

“Abe!” Matthew laughed and he nudged him lightly...well, not so lightly and they rushed off to class.

Matthew kept a small smile throughout their walking, talking, and listening to their teacher. How he managed to forget about the previous night was a mystery to the Canadian, but he could give the credit to his heaven-sent, Dutch, stoner, gay friend Abel Jansen. The tall, sharp man was the kind of guy that pretty much made Matthew accept the fact he was queer even though he truly didn’t find his whole self. The memory of his childhood with his imaginary friend soon turned into real world friendships with boys he found himself attracted to. In the fifth grade he remembered a younger boy who was introduced to him by the name Emil Anko and they were mutual friends, yet Matthew had found him adorable. 

The next year he was ashamed of the fact that he had a crush on one of Alfred’s friend-enemy Morro Jameson. Though they often yelled, through some spying Matthew saw that Morro was a very kind boy with a love for agriculture, kind of like himself, they never honestly talked too much though because Matthew was shy and Morro was too busy fighting with his brother before moving away to some other part of America, Arizona to be specific. 

Abel. Abel was different. He wasn’t disconnected from him, her knew him. He like him back. The teen wasn’t always angry nor was he so upbeat it made your teeth curl or you feel shrunken more than you already were. Abel was there for Matthew instead of being in and out, yet he respected his space enough to not seem clingy whatsoever. And damn was he talented when it came to writing, his science essays were so prestigious that it was beyond copying material. And you bet he got into AP English easily while Matthew had only gotten into AP math yet got a French class at special request of his parents. 

All this day dreaming had the boy in a happy little haze, appreciative of his life. But he didn’t even realize that was the past, they were the past. But Abel was in the present, but so were his nightmares, his scorched hand, the visions, something more. There that towering tower of roses was burned down in boiling oil, all that happiness stripped away as a terrible feeling came to me around seventh period. The melodic reading from the math textbook was background noise to the thoughts in his head. That feeling. That feeling. How it drained him. May that familiar feeling ring forever more. A cheers to the mind of Matthew Williams, for it is crumbling. Long live the depresates of the world. Cheers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oml, sorry for the late update, I was just stuck in a funk. Yeah, I just want to clarify that this is loosely inspired by The Haunting of Hill House. Yeah. Bye. Thanks for reading.


End file.
